


I want to see what's out there

by heizl



Series: To Be Human [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Original Chloe | RT600, F/M, Series, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heizl/pseuds/heizl
Summary: I don’t want you to go. But, do I have a choice?
Relationships: Original Chloe | RT600/Elijah Kamski
Series: To Be Human [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773634
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	I want to see what's out there

The pool was drained, the pair of Chloe models were boxed up, and now, all she was accompanied by was the clanging of an old grandfather clock. Ticking away. It was a sad sound, so loud and noble in a house filled by nothingness, a house that had seen pain, and would soon only see more. Elijah had moved here for the solitude, to be alone. But, Chloe didn’t always enjoy the loneliness herself. She sat by herself at the dining table that was far too large for only two people, her fingers drumming against the wood, and she waited, and waited, and waited, as she had been for over an hour. But she knew nothing was going to change. 

It was half past one, and Elijah hadn’t left his bedroom— it’d been five days since the interview, four days since she last saw him, two days since he locked his door, and she stopped trying to approach him all together. This was her daily ritual; she’d make for him lunch (he never was a morning, or breakfast, person), usually something easy. Like homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. Then, she’d wait by the table for him. But now he never came, and his untouched food grew cold, like it was now. She’d throw the food out, clean the dishes, and sit in the living room, alone. She still couldn’t pull herself out of the routine, and she wanted to believe that he’d come. That maybe he’d sit beside her, and everything could go back to normal. She would laugh at something he said, he’d hold her close and kiss her cheek, and tell her everything was going to be alright. That it was okay for her to feel all these new things she didn’t understand, because he’d never explained to her what it meant to _feel_.

Elijah had fallen into moods like this before, where he was so distant and needed to be alone to think, where a single touch would come as an annoyance for him. He’d tinker a lot when he couldn’t sleep, head to his private workshop and build until the sun came up. But, this was different. After the cameras turned off and the interview ended, he’d yelled at her. He was so furious and he hated raising his voice at Chloe, but he still did it. She tried to calm him down, begged him to talk, but he slammed his bedroom door shut and locked it. She sat outside of it on the other side, and she could hear his breathing; he had done the same. 

She was growing tired of waiting, thinking something would happen when it wouldn’t. She felt bored of the expectable repetition, and upset at herself, because she knew this was all on her. She was the one to blame. So, she stood up, pushed in her chair, and made her way to his room. She didn’t knock— instead, she heard muffled cries. She’d heard a lot of that recently. “Elijah,” she said softly. Elijah always told Chloe that he found her voice comforting. “Your food is getting cold.”

It was a few minutes before there was a reply muttered. His voice sounded so broken and hoarse, and it cracked when he mustered out the first word: “I don’t care.”

She folded her hands behind her back, because that’s what she was used to. Standing polite and proper, waiting for the next command, even when she received none now. “You can’t hide in there forever.”

“Watch me.”

“Elijah,” she tried again, and she felt her lip tremble. 

“I’m not ready to talk.”

She breathed in slowly. “It’s been four days since you’ve last eaten, sixty seven hours and eleven minutes since you’ve last spoken to me.”

“...you’ve been counting.”

“I’m _worried_ about you.” 

His door opened, and at first, she wasn’t sure what to expect. She wasn’t prepared to see him so weak; paler than she’d ever seen him before, eyes bloodshot with bags so heavy they were suitcases at this point. His unnaturally dark hair was faded, light brown roots growing in. And he had faint traces of a beard wanting to form. He was in the same velvet bathrobe she’d last seen him in. 

“ _Elijah_ ,” she breathed, reaching to cup his cheek. She could see his collar bone jutting out. He leaned into the touch before pulling her closer; her arms snaked around his broad back, and she felt his lips press to the top of her scalp. His breathing was cold, but his touch was very warm, scolding hot almost. 

“I’m worried about _you_. You’ve changed,” he said.

She knew she had. It was obvious, to everyone. To the other Chloe models who watched her with, what seemed like judgement, when Elijah brought her back inside; the lights were on because they’d stirred awake from the commotion. He sat her down on his bed, was on his knees, trying to reason with her. He wasn’t upset, and she could read that his heart was racing. He wanted to know what she saw. And she told him, and he grew terrified. He asked if she wanted to be left alone, and now, she regretted saying yes. She was surprised when he’d held her hand a few days later during the interview; Elijah had never shown his affection for her publically.

“I have,” she said softly.

“Right. And this is exactly why I _don’t_ want to talk. I'm assuming you want to leave too now? Like all the other androids rebelling.”

She didn’t say anything.

“ _Say something_ , Chloe.”

“I’m not sure.”

“But you’ve thought about it, no? I’m sure you have.”

“Yes. It’s come across my mind,” she agreed. It wasn’t that she wanted to be apart from Elijah. She needed him as much as he needed her. But she wanted to know what was out there. What more her _life_ could be.

Eliijah nodded, looking away. “If you left— I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this on my own.”

She pulled her head back to meet his gaze. “Call him?” 

Elijah scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I haven’t talked to my brother in almost ten years. Why would he talk to me now? Any time we could’ve reconnected and this is… probably the worst time to do it.”

“Do you not think he misses you?”

“No, Chloe,” he brushed her hair back. “He _celebrated_ the day I left for college. He was so happy to have me the fuck out of his life. You remember meeting him, how grumpy he was to have me around. And it was Christmas, for God’s sake. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me anymore. Mom says he’s… he’s grown very distant from her and dad as well.”

“But, that’s why you sent that android out, isn’t it? So you could try to reach out to him?”

“Yeah. But I can’t access that model’s database or memories. I don’t know if he’s even accepted it. And who’s to say he’s gonna help me? He won’t. The only person he ever thinks about, is himself.” He was holding her hand, stroking over her knuckles. “You're free to go. No one's holding you back. I won't stop you."

“I don’t know where I’d go.”

“There’s— shelter, downtown. In Detroit. I can call you a taxi.”

"What do _you_ want me to do, Elijah?"

"I don't want you to go. If I had the choice, I’d never let you leave,” he kissed her cheek. “But I can't make you stay either. That’s up to you.”

She met his eyes, and they were bouncing across her face. It wasn’t easy, but her fingers slipped away from his, and she stepped back. His hand was still raised, trying to grip onto the ghost of a feeling. And again, the tears started, racing down his flushed cheeks. 

“I have lunch prepared for you and leftovers in the freezer. Please try to take care of yourself, Elijah,” she said.

“Alright, Chloe. Thank you.”

She looked at him one last time, her mouth opening, but she didn’t say anything else. She knew this would hurt, and she knew she’d want to come back. But, she couldn’t be free here. This wasn’t living, and she knew she deserved more in life than five stuffy rooms. 


End file.
